


Mass

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Series: Hellfire [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, In Public, Masturbation, Priest Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: Belle comes back to church for Monday Mass.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompted: Almost getting caught.  
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana  
> This is a sequel to HELLFIRE.

On Sunday, he talked about temperance feeling like a fraud, every word coming out of his mouth as a well-rehearsed line that seemed to bore most of his congregation. Not that that wasn't the usual state of his congregation anyway. For the most part, Father Gold didn't care. At least the people came, and if they thought of Mass as such an unpleasant chore, then they might as well take it as a punishment for their sins.

This time, however, their blank expressions and occasional yawns made him feel exposed. He knew how his voice sounded, he could hear the guilt underlining every verse he read, and if Gold could hear it, then the congregation could too. The strain in his voice, the way his eyes darted from left to right, scavenging the church for a familiar face he couldn't stop thinking of.

Hypocrite.

He spoke of temperance and of sin, meanwhile his mind was miles away, thinking of a girl's face in ecstasy. Eyes closed in concentration. Juicy lips wide open as her pain became pleasure. A lustful smile every time the palm of his hand touched her delicate skin. He'd never seen anything as beautiful as her complete surrender. That was a face that could cause him trouble, and he couldn't stop looking for it, hoping she'd ignore his discomfort and come back to him.

Despite the turmoil in his head, Gold managed to get to the end of Mass, and he was relieved when people came to compliment him on the service. He had to stop being so paranoid.

_You can stop being paranoid_ , chastised an angry voice in his head,  _when you stop doing things you have to be paranoid about_ .

When a line formed in front of the confessional, Gold was glad that Belle hadn't showed up for Mass at all. This whole thing had started because of her sweet voice, whispering sins in his ear, tempting him. Not that he would blame his weakness on her alone, but she painted such vivid images, it was hard not to crave for more.

He hadn't acted on them though, even when given the opportunity. He hadn't even pleasured himself to the sound of her voice or the memory of her fantasies. Yes, all things considered, Father Gold was doing the best he could with his situation.

“You're a regular saint, Gold,” he whispered to himself in the loneliness of the confessional. Sometimes, he wondered if he shouldn't be on the other side of the window, letting a faceless man judge him for his shortcomings.

The Mass the next morning was easier. Storybrooke was a small town with an even smaller Catholic congregation. Most came to church on Sunday, but during the week, the benches were empty, save for Mother Superior and her nuns, and a couple of elderly women who always took the front row with adoring eyes. He recited a couple of verses, finding it easier to concentrate now that he didn't have dozens of eyes watching his every move. The pressure was off. Mother Superior might not like him, but her expectations were  _exceptionally_ low.

“ _For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men_ ,” he read, voice lacking in passion. His teachers at the seminary would have been proud, they'd always insisted that passion was an overrated quality. “ _Teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Savior Je_ -”

Gold raised his eyes from the bible just for a second and there she was, standing by the door, looking in. Trapped in the austerity of the church, the bright colors on her shirt and coat looked like a breath of life. He could see the red of her lipstick from where he stood, a tempting shade of red that Mother Superior would probably have asked her to wipe off before coming into the house of God. But as it were, the nun had her eyes on the barely adequate priest they had shoved into her hands, and who apparently couldn't get through an entire verse without faltering.

Father Gold cleared his throat. “ _Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Savior Jesus Christ; Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works..._ ”

Belle took that as a sign that he wasn't about to kick her out and sat at the farthest pew. Just another Catholic in search of salvation. Except that Gold wasn't sure that she was Catholic at all. Perhaps everything that she knew about church and God was that she fancied men of the clergy. She hadn't been the first of that kind that he encountered, though she was the first to get in his head.

Mother Superior looked back quickly, just to see who'd come in, but paid Belle no more than a passing glance before focusing on him again. Gold wished she wouldn't. Something hot was starting to crawl up his collar and his hands felt sweaty as they leafed through the holy book. The certainty that Belle didn't belong in this church was only surpassed by the overwhelming relief to see her again. She'd come back to him, and all he wanted was to hear the sound of her voice.

It was difficult to keep himself from rushing through the verses, or to keep his face impassive as Mass went on. If Belle decided to leave before he was done, there was nothing he could do to stop her. That might actually be her new strategy. No more fantasies in the confessional. She'd dangle herself in front of him, sitting on the farthest pew week after week, slipping through his fingers before he had the chance to actually act on the urges that overcame his body.

The ultimate penance. Look, don't touch. And pray away the sin once she was gone.

But Belle didn't move. In fact, she sat rather stiff on her lonely pew, head bowed low in prayer. He doubted she knew many prayers, though.

“ _Put them in mind to be subject to principalities and powers, to obey magistrates, to be ready to every good work_ ,” he proceeded, eyes on her. “ _To speak evil of no man, to be no brawlers, but gentle, shewing all meekness unto all men. For we ourselves also were sometimes foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers_ lusts... _and_ pleasures-”

Belle's eyes flicked up at him as he carefully pronounced those words, emphasizing them for her benefit. Her lips parted as if she'd surfaced for air from the depths of a cold sea. She looked vulnerable and pleading and hungry for another word.

“ _Living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another_ ,” he continued, and Belle sank back again, but Gold knew she was hanging on his every word.

The understanding came to him without warning, washing over his body with a wave or arousal. His voice wanted to tremble, but he swallowed down his words before they could give him away.

“Let us be on our knees and pray,” he said, after finishing the verse. “Our Father. Mother Superior, will you guide us through it?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Ten times.”

Mother Superior raised an eyebrow at him, but the elderly women sighed with inspiration. “Oh, what a lovely idea, father!” one said, and began to pray with her friend. The nuns soon followed, saying the words out loud in unison.

As he moved away from the altar, he could feel Mother Superior's eyes on him. Thank the lord for the loose vestments, concealing his growing arousal as he approached the lonely woman in the back. The nuns and the elderly women had knelt down to pray, but Belle remained seated. She had folded her coat over her lap and her left hand was fumbling with a button. The right hand was out of sight. She kept her legs apart and there was a slight tremor on her right arm that would have seemed perfectly innocent to anyone who didn't know what they were looking for. Gold did.

Belle looked up at him and he stared back, hoping his expression was neutral and didn't give away just how fascinating he found her. Gold expected her to straighten her back and stop touching herself underneath the coat, but she didn't. If anything, her hand only seemed to work faster once she saw his eyes on her. Behind him, came the sound of prayers, recited dully, covering the ragged breath that escaped her lips. She was close.

Father Gold walked around the pew and stood behind her. Even from that vantage point, there was nothing to be seen. Good. He should tell her to leave. He should tell her that this was no place for indulging in pleasure and that she should go home now.

He leaned closer to her ear.

“You should kneel when I tell you to, child,” he whispered, and her breath got caught in her throat.

“Yes, father,” she sighed back, her passion contrasting with the prayer in monotone voices.

“You need to be on your knees and say your prayers, and if you're not doing as I say-”

“Father-”

He could see her hand working frantically now. Had the church been silent, he might have been able to hear the wet sound of her fingers working her pussy.

“Then I should have been harsher with my punishment. I shouldn't have stopped until you were too sore to touch your-”

The silent church was taken over by the echo of Belle's voice, a sudden cry of pleasure, so loud that she immediately covered her mouth in shame. The women at the front turned around to see what the fuss was all about and Gold had to bite the inside of his cheek not to smirk at them. He placed a protective hand on Belle's shoulder and signaled for Mother Superior to go on.

One by one, the women turned around, Mother Superior being the last one, still suspicious, but her mind refusing to take that final leap to the worst conclusion. Their situation could easily be mistaken for something innocent. Belle was crying and he was comforting her, like a good spiritual guide should.

Gold thumbed her shoulder, soothing her, but her body remained stiff in the aftershock of what seemed to have been a powerful orgasm.

“You have to pray, child,” he told her, and Belle started breathing again.

“Will you pray with me?” she asked, her mouth sill covered and her face colored with shame.

Gold knew that being so close to her wasn't a good idea, but he walked around the pew and took his place on the kneeler.

Belle flinched when her knees touched the wood. “This thing is really uncomfortable.”

“Good,” he said. “Clean your fingers before you do the sign of the cross.”

She seemed to shrink into herself and, concealed from the rest of church, shoved her index and middle fingers in her mouth to suck on them. It was done so quickly Father Gold doubted it had been for his own benefit, but it still left his mouth dry.

“Ten times?” she asked.

“Twenty,” he corrected, though right now he thought he could pray one hundred times and still burn in hell.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If this is a very unrealistic portrayal of Mass, I am very sorry. Although I'm catholic, I've only been to church a couple of times.


End file.
